


Hidden in Plain View

by laEsmeralda



Series: Arwen's Book of Secrets [3]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 06:39:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5858272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laEsmeralda/pseuds/laEsmeralda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most people see what they expect to see, and look no deeper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hidden in Plain View

Still reading Galadriel's letter, smiling at the colorful sketches she used to punctuate her tales, I absentmindedly pushed my way through the various doors of our quarters, finally placing the letter on Aragorn's desk for his enjoyment. Musing on my grandmother's humor, I went on to the bedchamber, intending to change for a run with Hamen, something both the neglected steed and I craved. But when the last door swung open, I froze.

Legolas was braced against the far wall across from me, head thrown back, eyes closed, with Aragorn kneeling at his feet. I caught the door behind me so that it would not announce my presence, and eased it shut. They were so completely absorbed in one another that even their keen senses did not detect me or the movement of air from the door. 

I could see Legolas strain with the effort to be quiet, but Aragorn was moaning softly in his throat as he devoured the body before him with deep hunger. I stood perfectly still, not wanting to disturb the timbre of a moment when they did not know they were watched. It was a delicious and rare opportunity--for me as well as for them.

Aragorn moved one hand, palm flat, from his lower grasp upward over a quivering stomach to caress the muscles of Legolas' chest. Our elf had both hands pressed to the wall on either side of his hips. Without opening his eyes, Legolas spoke low and aching, "Please, let me touch you." I knew he wanted his hands in Aragorn's hair.

Aragorn shifted, hand replacing mouth, and looked up. I could hear the smile in his voice. "No, my friend, this afternoon, I wish to take you, not to share." He did something then, hidden from my view, which caused Legolas to arch his back. A bead of sweat glistened on its way down Aragorn's spine and dampened his breeches. "You said I could have anything I wanted."

"Yes, I did," Legolas breathed, rolling his head from side to side against the wall. Within moments, he would know from my scent that I was there. But those few moments would be breathtaking. "You have become masterful at this."

"You may thank Arwen," he replied. I smiled at his credit.

I saw the pulse thudding at Legolas' throat. "I do," he took a ragged breath, "every day. But you always had enthusiasm, and now, nuances of your own."

"Were we elsewhere, I would enjoy making you scream." With those words, Aragorn filled his mouth again. 

Legolas gasped, then worked to calm his breath. "I would enjoy screaming for you," he finally said, as wryly as could be managed. Then, he knew I was there and opened his eyes. For a beat of time, they were still unguarded to his soul before the mischief returned to them. They are what took Aragorn in the beginning, those eyes. I smiled at Legolas and put a finger to my lips. He winked and I knew I was invited to remain.

Aragorn shifted to his knees from his haunches and brushed his hair aside. With a strong hand, he took Legolas behind one knee and lifted the leg to rest on his own brown shoulder.

"You will unbalance me, Ranger."

"Impossible," Aragorn murmured, "unless too much love may do so."

Aragorn devotes himself to this task like few other things, and he is a devoted King, a hard worker. He has great power in the world now. Lives may be saved and spent at more than the point of his sword. Yet he enjoys it not. This, the power to please, to ease pain with joy, to transport a soul beyond itself, is his true calling. 

And Legolas needs this tending more than I do, though we desire it equally. I have had my own pains, but taking lives has not been one of them. Aragorn, though kind and gentle, sheds tears only for the lives of his soldiers spent in their loyalty, or for those caught in the middle of war, and not for the enemy he strikes down. Legolas' heart, for all its fierceness, weeps for all life wasted at the kill. 

My reverie on souls was broken at a moan as Legolas lost the grip on his silence for a moment. He regained it, shoulders pressed back against the wall, stomach flexed tight. He was now watching Aragorn love him, and though I could not see for myself, I wondered how he had not lost himself yet. 

I wished for something to lean on, but dared not move. Although Aragorn had become more at ease in our honesty, he was still inhibited by my presence, afraid to show the depth of his love for Legolas. The King's male lover was hidden in plain view, perfectly cloaked as his best friend and comrade of the war, but still he fretted, even with me. I wondered if he always held something back.

Over and over, Aragorn drew Legolas to the edge and then calmed him back, and I felt the ebb and flow washing over me like a great tide. At last, I did lean back on the doorjamb, lest my knees give way. Legolas' eyes flicked to mine ever so briefly, blue as the wide sky in summer, before they closed in ecstasy.

"You must come now, lover of mine," I heard Aragorn's voice clearly, in my mind only, as he could not have spoken at that moment.

Legolas did as he was told, covering his mouth with his own arm, and I heard the song not chanted aloud. Aragorn held him tightly, bracing him well and moaning softly in appreciation at the feel and taste of response to his love.

Afterward, Legolas trembled. Aragorn gently drew the long leg back down, caressing the arched foot as he guided it to the floor, and then he stood, hands sliding up Legolas' sides, lending support until he could take him fully in his arms. Their long kiss brought tears to my eyes. I took the opportunity to slip to the bathing area unnoticed and had almost made the doorway.

"Arwen, my love," Aragorn said. "Come back, are you well?" He strode to me and clasped my arms, searching my eyes.

"Only taken with your hearts," I replied, feeling errant tears slip out in my emotion. Legolas' arms came round me from behind in a warm hug, and Aragorn took me to his own chest. They cradled me thus for long minutes, rocking me between them.

"You were here throughout?" Aragorn's voice came to me through his chest this time, and I heard worry in it.

"Nearly, I think. I wish that you did not fear my reaction. Were you less concerned, I would not creep about so." I smiled against his damp skin.

Legolas bit me playfully on the neck. "She understates her response, Aragorn. I must go to my chores, and I think you are both in such a state now as to entertain each other well in my absence." But he did not step away yet. When he spoke again, it was in seriousness. "You know that I love you both."

I let my head fall back on his shoulder and looked at him. My tears had stopped. "You make it clear every moment we are together," I replied. He kissed my cheek and went to wash and dress. Again, I wondered at the chasteness of my feelings for him. He made everything so easy.

Aragorn swept me up and swung me around, making me laugh like a child. "I have a little time yet before afternoon audience," he said. "Shall you demonstrate to me that indeed you are well?"

My smile was enough of an answer, and we fell to each other without delay.  
*******


End file.
